“I am always happy to receive a bit of insight,” he said.
“She had seen your products. And your presentation.”
Something in him went still. “That is impossible.”
“It isn’t,” the man said. “Because... Because she paid me. To feed her the information.”
It was as if the world had been turned on its axis. Gunnar was immobilized. He prided himself on his read of people. For being wrong about someone had destroyed his world, and the lives of the people he had loved most, and he had learned that he could not afford to make such mistakes again, not ever.
And here he was now, faced with the betrayal of his assistant, and...
Olive.
Olive, who he’d long wanted to protect. To save.
Olive who he...
In his mind was a montage of every time he’d brought her a cupcake. Every time they’d sparred. Of the time he’d lifted her from a potted plant when she’d been an ungainly teenage girl—long before he’d wanted her.
Of the first moment he’d realized he did want her. And of the strange mix of pride and competition he’d always felt when watching her work.
He’d always found her brilliant. A much brighter mind than her father. And he’d believed her to be...good.
But she was no different than all these men who played games to line their pockets. Than those who disadvantaged others to elevate themselves.
Little Olive, who he had always believed to be singular, was nothing more than a common thief.
Everything in him turned to ice. “So, you’ve been working for her?”
“Yes,” Jason said.
“I would venture to say you are not coming clean now because of a guilty conscience.” Clearly neither Jason nor Olive had a conscience at all.
“No,” the other man said, hesitating.
“Then why?” Gunnar pressed.
“Because I don’t feel her company is the future. There are issues... There are issues at the moment. Vulnerabilities.”
“In what sense,” Gunnar asked, his voice hard.
“She hasn’t been herself. Everyone on her team has noticed. She has been at work less, coming in late. One wonders if she’s slid into the sorts of traps that many people her age might in this position.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe a drinking problem? Partying? I’m not certain. All I know is it’s becoming clear she may not be the future of the company I initially believed.”
Even now, he wanted to defend Olive. She was young and saddled with an incredible burden.
She isn’t who you thought.
He cast his mind back to the night of her father’s funeral. How she’d wept. How soft she’d been.
That had been a lie like everything else. Because how could that woman who had betrayed him also be that soft creature who’d tilted her face up to him in silent demand for a kiss?
“What is it you want?” Gunnar asked.
“I want a position secured at the company. I can provide proof she earned the contract nefariously, and you can get her out of the way and secure a contract with Yamamoto yourself.”